Happy Birthday, Olga Um, Helga
by Mystik Spiral
Summary: As you can imagine, all of Helga's birthdays have been flops, since her parents are Big Bob and Miriam. This year, Helga & Phoebe are determined to make the party work out, but they're still somewhat dependent on Big Bob & Miriam. Will they ruin this birt


Hey, people! This is the first fic I've actually written, since most of my fanfics never make it past the privacy of my thoughts. I hate people I know reading my stuff, but I guess most of them can now. Anyway, this fic is stupid, in my opinion, but everyone thinks that about their own fics, so you might like it.  
Sorry to disappoint you, but this fic isn't a romance. Not really. But wait, don't go! It's supposed to be as close to an actual episode as it can be, so that it's realistic. No offense to anybody, I'm not saying that anyone's fic is bad, but most of the HA! fics are sappy romances, & it just kills the humor of the show. This show is about 9-year-olds! It's not a soap opera!  
Sorry 'bout that. Now before I start the fic, I'd just like to say that I don't own HA! or any of the characters, obviously, & why am I saying this? Everyone knows HA! was created by Craig Bartlett, who I am not.  
  
"Boys and girls, it's a new month," Mr. Simmons said, walking to the bulletin board. "You know what that means."  
The bored fourth-graders sighed and chorused, "A new birthday board."  
"That's right. And there's only one birthday this month, Helga Pataki's," Mr. Simmons continued. "I'm sure Helga will celebrate her birthday in her own special way."  
As Mr. Simmons spoke, Helga rolled up tiny pieces of paper and threw them at a certain kid with a weird football-shaped head, muttering sarcastic remarks under her breath, like "I can't stand the suspense," and "I'm ever-so-sure I'll have a wonderful time," which was meant to mimic Lila, the perfect goody-two-shoes that Arnold liked. She rolled her eyes and turned to Mr. Simmons. "Yeah, whatever."  
The bell rang, and the children trampled each other on their way out.  
"Oh, my, there's the bell," Mr. Simmons said. "I hope you all have a special afternoon." Helga and Phoebe were the only students left in the classroom, but they didn't pay any attention to him.  
  
Yay! The first scene change!  
  
Helga opened her locker, dropped in her books, and took the ones she needed out. She handed them to Phoebe, who said, "So, your birthday's next week?"  
"Yeah. So?" Helga leaned over the water fountain and sucked in the stream of water.  
"Well...I couldn't help but notice....." Phoebe continued.  
Helga wiped the water from her chin with her sleeve as Phoebe pushed the metal doors open. The two girls walked through the abandoned blacktop and to the street, Phoebe taking two steps for each of Helga's steps, being smaller than her friend.  
"It's customary that one should celebrate their birthday--"  
"Crimeny, Phoebe!" Helga stopped in her tracks and slapped her forehead. "Don't tell me you've forgotten last year's party!"  
Both girls paused in remembrance of that day.  
Miriam strolled into the kitchen, carrying a radio playing festive music. "Alrighty, now, who wants to tango?"  
Eugene staggered clumsily across the room. "Oh, me! Me! I do!"  
"I reckon I shoulda' stayed home and pondered my workbooks," Stinky said to Harold. Helga banged her head on the counter. "I hate birthdays....I hate birthdays....I hate birthdays...."  
"I hate birthdays," Helga said, and they continued walking.  
Phoebe desperately wished her friend would be more social. She communicated with the fourth graders, but usually with her fists, not with her mouth. When she did talk to them, she was usually insulting someone, or making rude or sarcastic remarks.  
"But, Helga," the determined Phoebe protested, "if you don't have a party, you'll be the first fourth grader this year not to."  
Helga shrugged. "So?"  
"Every year Big Bob burns the cake and Miriam leaves the ice cream on the car, so it either melts or she pulls off while it's up there."  
Helga wondered why her quiet friend was being so unusually persistent and she was about to put her back in her place when Phoebe said, "There will be lots of free stuff."  
"Free stuff, huh?"  
"Oh, sure, Helga. No one in our class has been known to show up without a gift-- with the exception of Harold."  
"Alright, Pheebs, I'll level with ya. You give out the invitations, make the phone calls, etc., etc., and I'll deal with Big Bob and Miriam."  
As the two girls walked on, Phoebe reflected on their conversation. 'Since when do I use the word "stuff"?' She said nothing the rest of the way home, replacing "stuff" with more appropriate words until she was satisfied.  
  
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